


To You, The Good Life and Me

by braindelete



Category: Iron Man (Comic), Marvel 616
Genre: Fluff and Angst, Gen, Hurt Tony Stark, Hurt/Comfort, Minor Character Death, Religious Tones, Tony Stark Does What He Wants, Tony Stark Has Daddy Issues, tony stark has feels
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2013-01-27
Updated: 2013-01-27
Packaged: 2017-11-27 03:17:17
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 6,821
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/657445
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/braindelete/pseuds/braindelete
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>During the brain delete process, Tony makes an OMD type of deal with Mephisto.</p>
            </blockquote>





	To You, The Good Life and Me

The trio stood outside Stark House, on the base of the steps. There was a town car nearby loaded up and waiting to take him away.

Tony sat on the steps waiting for his mother and father to come down before sending him away to boarding school; he knew his mother wasn’t happy with the choice. He knew that she was upset by it and had been begging his father to reconsider but Howard Stark had not budged so Tony sat with anticipation of being away from his parents for the first time ever. He didn’t know when he’d be back.

Seven years old and he was being sent away.

Maria Stark came down the stairs and Tony immediately got to his feet. She smiled softly at him but he could tell that she’d just been in tears; her eyes a bit red and slightly glassy. He was going to miss her gentle touch, her kind smile, her soft singing to him when he couldn’t sleep at night. Maria stood in front of him smoothing out the stray hairs in his face and giving him one of her most composed smiles.

“You’re going to be a brave boy for me, aren’t you, Tony?” she asked him.

Tony gave his mother a nod. “Yes mom. I will be.”

Maria bent down so that she was on his level, slipping her hands down to take his smaller ones in hers. Her beautiful brown eyes caught his and she gave him another soft smile. He was going to miss her smile while he was away.

“You’re going to be a great man one day, Anthony. Don’t ever forget that. You’re such a smart, sensitive boy.”

She pecked his cheek before standing up again. Tony knew why she stood so abruptly; Howard was coming down the stairs. His father didn’t take kindly to his mother’s open displays of affection.

“Time to go, son.”

 

It was Parents Weekend his sophomore year. They had sent him home for holidays when he was attending the school in England. Since his parents lived in the States they’d never been able to make it for the Parents' Weekends over there. The minute Tony had begun to excel the school’s headmaster had suggested to Howard that he move ahead in his curriculum, Howard put Tony on the next plane home to the United States.

He spent one night with his family at Stark House before he moved into the Wolcott house at Milton Academy.

“The Kennedys attended Milton Academy, Anthony,” Howard had told him. “It’s important that you make a good impression for the Stark name. We can make necessary political connections with your enrollment here, even if it has to be with the Democrats.”

That was the last thing his father had said to him before he left Tony in his dorm room to unpack. Maria had kissed his cheek with an 'I love you' in Italian and followed after her husband.

He stood at the mirror fussing with the tie on his uniform. He’d grown up a lot in five years, forced himself to function without his mother there to solve his problems and without the Sundays in the drawing room he’d grown accustomed to. He was accustomed to breakfast in a large room with other kids instead of home-cooked meals that were tenderly cared for and cooked with love by Jarvis every morning. The one relief Tony Stark had about being away from his family, was that his father wasn’t looming over everything that he did.

Tony knew not to expect his father to exit the town car at the front gate of the school grounds. He knew better than to get excited or to anticipate the arrival of Howard Stark. Yet, somehow, his heart still felt like someone had shoved a knife through it when Jarvis shut the door behind his mother.

“Anthony, you’re growing up so fast. Every time I see you you’re more of a man.” Maria cupped his cheeks and stared into his eyes.

Her eyes were filling with tears. Tony was resisting his own. Men didn’t cry and they’d been teaching him that lesson here every moment they could.

“Mom… you’re embarrassing me.” He whined a bit.

Maria smiled a bit, pulling back. “You’re just growing up so fast.”

It was too fast as far as Maria was concerned because he was being robbed steadily of his childhood at this school. She took the arm her son had offered, at least he had managed to keep his manners, as he lead her toward his the house building.

“You made Dean’s list this semester. I’m so proud of you, Anthony. And your father is too. He wanted to be here, he just… had business.”

“Right. Of course.” Tony smiled. “Well, I’m glad you’re here. Let’s go to my room first, Ty wanted to say hello.”

He’d rather have his mother here any day.

 

Tony Stark could build giant creations out of Erector sets and program a computer without even blinking. He could do complicated math equations in his head in record time and he could design entire systems out of pulleys and levers to bring beer into his dorm without getting caught by the resident advisers.

He sucked at peeling potatoes. However, peeling potatoes meant he was saved from the idle conversation of business and mechanics and the constant questions about MIT, dorm life, grades and girlfriends with his father’s dinner guests, he’d gladly do it. His mother had asked him to and you could not deny your mother at Thanksgiving.

“Tony, would you please shave before dinner?” Maria asked.

She was basting the turkey with a special blend of seasoning and olive oil he’d probably never get the recipe to. She’d take it to her grave but whatever it was, it made her Thanksgiving turkey the best in the world. Not that Tony had had many other thanksgiving turkeys.

“You’re not a fan of my mustache?” he grinned a bit, dropping a peeled potato into the bowl with the ones he’d already completed.

“You look like your father.” Maria teased.

Tony made a face and hoped off the kitchen counter where he’d perched himself, much to the chagrin of Jarvis, to do his dinner prepping task. She gave him a small laugh and approached, cupping his cheeks with her hands. This was her way of showing affection. The conversation had lulled a bit when the subject of his empty love life had come up. He hadn’t ventured much into the dating world after his last relationship ended well… in heartbreak and stolen company secrets.

“You’re a very handsome young man, you have many years ahead of you before you need to distinguish yourself with facial hair.” Maria pecked his cheeks with her lips.

Tony smiled and bit and kissed her cheek in return.

“Alright. I need to change anyway.” he replied as he grabbed a roll and headed toward the grand staircase.

“Anthony…” his mother called.

Tony stopped and turned to her, looking a bit guilty for taking the roll.

Maria looked him over. He was tall, standing nearly six feet, a junior in college at eighteen years old with a slender frame, well toned muscles that showed just a little under his clothes and waves of dark hair. His mother’s coloring, his father’s eyes and her son stood as a thing of beauty. It wasn’t just his outer features that made her so proud of him it was the man inside that he’d grown to be. Though Howard had wanted to harden him, Tony had not succumbed entirely and inside he had a good heart and a loving nature. She just hoped that time wouldn’t take it from him.

“You’re going a lovely husband one day, poco ingegnere.”

 

Maria stood in front of her son, adjusting his tie on his suit as he prepared for his graduation from MIT. Tony was nineteen, graduating with honors. She watched him pull on his graduation gown. She noticed him fussing with the cap so it wouldn’t muss his finely coiffed hair. She smiled as he turned to look at her for approval.

“You look very handsome, Anthony.”

He gave her a grin. “Thank you. You should probably go find dad and get your seats.” Tony hesitated a moment. “Dad came… right?”

Maria smiled, it was a genuine smile and Tony felt his heart rate slow a bit with relief. “He came. He’s already found our seats. I wanted to come and wish you well.”

He smiled back with a slight blush and nodded.

Maria approached and hugged him. He returned it, and for a long moment they stood together in that embrace. Tony was certain that his mother was crying but he wasn’t going to ask her or bring it up. It was an emotional day for her. Her only child was a grown up.

“I’m very proud of you, Anthony.” She pecked his cheek and wiped her eyes with a small handkerchief from her purse. “Mio poco ingegnere.”

 

So it’s true that your life flashes before your eyes when you die…

Death was quicker than he’d expected. Hell was apparently a roadside motel somewhere between Vegas and LA with run down walls that had peeling wallpaper; sheets that probably hadn’t been washed since they’d first been placed on the beds. The carpet was a hideous faded orangey yellow, with stains marring it form in discolored dark splotches. An antenna television set circa 1975 was on the dresser slash counter where the list of pay-per-view entertainment and after-hours titles sat in a place card beside the remote Velcro-ed to the top of the set and the windows were shrouded with thick patterned curtains that matched the floral bed spread.

Tony Stark wrinkled his nose in disgust. “Well, at least the bed isn’t coin-operated.”

He stood up from his seated position on the bed stretching out lightly. He recalled seeing this kind of set up on an episode of Family Guy that Peter had been watching back when they all lived in the tower. Maybe this was just another nightmare as a result of his failing brain. Tony hadn’t anticipated the nightmares, so far they’d only played out as memories of his mother, this one was entirely new.

Smoke leaked in from outside through every tiny crack in the door. It blanketed the room with thick fog before rising up around the room as if a giant hose had started to pump it in at full volume. A snake of vapor seemed to wrap itself around Tony’s throat, working his way into his nose and mouth cutting off access to clean air.

Tony coughed and struggled trying to clear the stuff away, but it seemed to only increase its suction of the air from his lungs as he did. He figured his mind was playing tricks on him (at least it worked in the after life) as he slipped backward onto the bed, choking and watched as the cloud coalesced into the outline of a woman. A tall, slender woman in a flowing evening gown with hair the color of the midnight sky tied up tightly into an ornate up-do, piercing eyes that seemed to laser holes right through his soul.

“Anthony,” her voice was silky, her English softened with a slight accent.

As she spoke her body solidified to a tangible entity. The smoke disappeared and Tony sat back on the bed, eyes wide in disbelief.

“Anthony, you have been a very bad boy. I’m disappointed in you.”

He swallowed as he felt the air coming more easily to his starved lungs. She approached him and he sat up rigidly. Her hand reached out with one of her long hands, her lengthy fingers tracing the sharp lines of his cheekbones, slipping gently to cup his chin in her palm. Her eyes met his, staring into him as if she were reading his soul splayed out before her like a storybook.

Tony choked a bit on his own saliva. “Mom…”

Maria Stark’s eyes narrowed a bit.

“You have made such a mess of your life, Anthony. You have hurt so many people with your behavior.” her eyes seemed to soften; he could see the tears forming. “You are not the man I raised you to become. You’re a failure.”

Tony closed his eyes, lowering his head as he did so. This wasn’t his mother. Maria would never be cruel.

“Who are you?” he growled.

His heart clenched when the honey coated laughter started. It sounded just like her and for a moment he considered he’d been wrong. Perhaps, in hell, his mother hated the man he’d become; he was very much a failure in her eyes. This was hell after all, and he could imagine no worse fate that to have his mother been disappointed in him as a man. But the laughter deepened and lost the soft tones of his Maria Stark, turning down right maniacal viciously hard and throaty.

“You’re not as easy to fool. I should have known.” she said.

Her face changed instantly, her body going immediately after to a tall man with long hair erratic strands of hair and ears that came to jagged points at the top. His grin bared trenchant canines like some kind of vampire and a demonic red glow light his narrow eyes. A long, red cape fell from his shoulders to the floor and pooled on the floor forming more of the toxic smoke.

“Mephisto…” Tony looked up, snarling a bit.

“Did you really expect to see anyone else? Don’t worry, Stark I’m not here for your soul. You sold that long before I was interested.”

Tony flinched as if he’d been struck.

“What would your mother say…” Mephisto taunted.

Tony glared. “Leave her out of this. You know nothing about my mother!”

Mephisto laughed and approached Tony, running his long bony finger through the man’s soft, black hair. He tugged lightly and pulled Stark’s head back causing him to curse a little. The glowing red eyes narrowed further as a wicked grin spread across his aggressor’s lips.

“She is very much a part of this, Mr. Stark.”

Tony swallowed.

“What if I could offer you her life, return her to you as if she had never gone? You’d have a change to live your life with your mother watching you create all the… good… in the world that you strive for. Maybe you’d even be a better man.”

“That’s not possible. You can’t raise people from the dead!”

Not Steve and not Jan and definitely not his mother.

“I can. And all you have to do is tell me it’s what you want. She’s all yours.”

Tony narrowed his eyes again. He looked toward the door for an escape. He’d find Pepper, or Henry or anyone. He’s seen movies… he’d make them here him if he were trapped on some other plan in purgatory. He wasn’t going to sell his soul to the devil.

“I already told you I don’t want your soul.” Mephisto growled. “You don’t have that as collateral. I want something else.”

“What? What do you want?” Tony barked.

“For your mother… I want… Iron Man.”

Tony laughed. It was bitter, angry laugh that surprised even him. Like he would just hand over the Iron Man armor to Satan to do with it as he pleased. This guy was out of his mind, and not just because he thought he was Mephistopheles. There was no way he was going to fall for this. He wasn’t dead, he must just be having a nightmare—but he seemed to be aware of it so it was probably a lucid dream.

Tony looked at the clock. He could read it. He felt the color drain from his cheeks and glanced back at Mephisto. He wasn’t dreaming. Mephisto's grin grew larger.

“I don’t want to use it. You don’t actually have to give me the armor. I just will take your knowledge of how to build it, your… Extremis system… you won’t be Iron Man anymore. But, in exchange you can have your beloved mother healthy and happy and without her husband to keep her oppressed.”

Tony’s heart ached.

His mother. If this were possible he’d have a chance to tell her one more time that he loved her. He’d have a chance to make up for the spoiled brat he’d grown up to be. He’d be able to prove to her that he was the man she wanted to be proud of all those years ago when she was teaching him how to be a kind man. He could smell her perfume again, spicy and floral and fresh in his nostrils, he closed his eyes as it filled his senses.

“You have twenty-four hours to decide. If you choose Maria Stark you will no longer be Iron Man, but you’ll know what you gave up. You’ll know you were Iron Man. Not that you stopped to save your mother.”

Tony opened his eyes. His voice shook. Iron Man or his mother. It was a tough call. If he could really have his mother back maybe it was worth the Iron Man technology. Iron Man had brought him a lot of trouble and in the end he was laying in a hotel room, without his friends, his company, and his allies and without the armor. Iron Man had ruined his life and all he wanted to do was be a good man.

“I’ll… think about it…” he finally said.

“Twenty-four hours.”

Mephisto was gone.

 

It always seemed to rain when he buried people he cared about, like God was taunting him with added insult to his injury. This was the first time he’d attended a funeral, he didn’t know that his life would be littered with them ranging from girlfriends to best friends for years to come. He was still innocent that day so it was only appropriate that Tony’s first good-byes were to his parents.

Particularly to his mother as a woman from the Catholic choir sang a rendition of Caro Mio Ben, one of his mother’s favorite songs, as they lowered the caskets beside each other into the earth. Tony knew his tears were camouflaged by the raindrops as Jarvis stood beside him with the black overhead. The older man had an arm around Tony’s shoulders, holding him against his side protectively.

He didn’t attend the reception after the funeral where fake people would give fake condolences about their dubious connections to his parents. He didn’t want to hear anecdotes about what a great man Howard was, or how beautiful Maria had been because Tony knew these things. Tony knew them in ways that others didn’t. He knew his mother's relaxed laugh. He knew the way his father fell asleep in the study after too many drinks. He retreated to his room at Stark House, where he sat on the bed looking through photo albums of his mother’s while he finished off a bottle of wine he’d stolen from downstairs.

 

Tony woke in the hotel room, staring at a stain on the ceiling that wasn’t entirely sure he wanted to identify. The wake had been abrupt but the nightmare hadn’t caused any of the typical reactions. He sat up and looked around, catching a glimpse of the clock before getting entirely off the bed. His mouth was dry and tasted awful, he needed a drink but wasn’t about to trust the glasses in the hotel room.

He left the room and made his way toward the vending machine at the end of the balcony walkway. The alarming memory of his parents' funeral fresh in his mind while he entertained the possibility and ramifications of accepting Mephisto’s deal. Tony knew that if he were to accept it, a number of things could happen. Bargains such as this tended to have lingering consequences that he might never recover from. As soon as he accepted the bargain, the choice was irreversible.

On one hand he could have his mother. On the other he could have Iron Man.

His heart gave him this answer, and this time he was going to listen.

When Mephisto returned it was rather uneventful. He appeared as he had before and Tony sat hunched over on the edge of the bed, looking at the bottle of water in his hands. Mephisto had a pretty good idea of what Stark’s choice was going to be, by the man’s defeated posture and downward gaze. He smirked as he waited for Tony to look up at him.

Tony did not raise his gaze.

“Have you decided? You have five more minutes.” Mephisto growled.

Tony still didn’t look up. “I have.”

“And?”

Tony didn’t hesitate. “I want to see my mother again.”

 

“Good morning Mr. Stark, the time is 6:30 am. It’s 45 degrees with a chance of showers later this afternoon. The high today is 52 degrees with a low of 38.” A soft feminine voice came from the customized alarm clock on the bedside table.

Tony Stark raised his head off the pillow, squinting at the clock before glancing down at the slender arm draping his midriff, a sparkling Harry Winston on the ring finger. He turned to see the mess of red hair, her face turned away from his as she was resting on her stomach beside him. He moved ever so slightly to shift her into his arms, and she slowly curled into him when he kissed her gently along the jaw-line.

“Mmmm. Ten more minutes, Tony.” she swatted a bit at him, her voice thick with sleep.

“Morning to you too, Beth. It’s time to get up.”

Bethany Cabe slipped out of bed after her fiancé, yawning a bit as she made her way to the bathroom. Tony slipped on a shirt before making his way down the steps to the kitchen. The smell of cinnamon and coffee shifting through the air lured him as if beckoned by the long nailed finger of a woman dragging him to the door of the kitchen.

Maria Stark stood beside Jarvis as the TV played Good Morning America as he pulled a tray of fresh cinnamon rolls out of the oven.

Tony was used to this sight, it was like a morning ritual for these two. Maria Stark had aged gracefully with flecks of gray threading her thick black hair. She wore her hair down more often and her clothes were more comfortable and loose than they had been when he was young. She still stood tall, with her long regal frame and high cheekbones. Her dark eyes marked only with the slight hint of crow’s feet.

“Good morning,” Maria smiled offering Tony a cup of coffee.

“Morning, Madre.” Tony kissed her cheek gently, accepting the mug.

“I see Bethany spent the night.” Maria raised her eyebrows to punctuate her point.

Tony laughed, before taking a sip from the cup. Here he was, a grown man and yet he was still his mother’s only son; he would always be her little baby. She put two small frittatas on a plate and dished out one of the cinnamon rolls as she spoke to him. Her voice was still honey-coated and soft as it had always been.

“I know you’ve been married before but I think that you should…” Maria trailed off a bit, handing him the plate.

Tony sighed. “She’s been married before too. It’s not as if I’m corrupting her.”

He pecked her cheek before taking a seat at the table. There they were, on the front page of the paper from the latest gala last night followed by the same old story: Tony Stark, billionaire industrialist and his gorgeous fiancée, security expert Bethany Cabe were out last night to support XYZ charity to which the Stark family, Tony and his mother Maria, were prominent contributors. He wasn’t sure at which point he’d started reading out loud.

“… This will be the second marriage for both Stark and Cabe. Cabe is the widow of the late Alexander van Tilberg. Stark is now famously divorced from his wife of two years, Joanna Nivena, after his return from Afghanistan where he was had been missing for several months…blah blah blah..” Tony put the paper aside.

Maria sat down in the chair beside him, slipping her hand into his. “How are you doing? I know it’s been some time since your surgery, Anthony…”

“But you worry.” he smiled, gently squeezing her hand. “I’m alright.”

 

Pepper Potts-Hogan knew that her boss wasn’t listening to a word she said as she rattled off his schedule, while he stared absently out the window twirling a fine pen in his fingers. She paused a moment before deciding to continue, crossing her arms over her chest and staring at him as she did, with characteristic impatience.

“-and after lunch with Senator Kitson you have to make an appearance at the Brooklyn Zoo to wash a monkey and prep it for space travel to Mars. Also you’re going to proceed over a marriage of the two African Elephants… you aren’t even listening are you?”

Chastened, Tony turned to her, dropping the pen.

“Sorry Pep, I guess I’m just… elsewhere.” he apologized.

Pepper sat in the chair across from Tony, handing him the pen that had skidded across the floor.

“What’s on your mind, boss?” she asked.

Tony looked her over, the schedule book now folded closed in her lap, her little business suit fitted nicely on her body. In another world, maybe he’d have fallen for her... but another red head had his heart.

“I just… miss the Iron Man.” Tony replied finally.

“You had a good reason to give it up,” Pepper replied. “You were trying to save your marriage. That’s noble enough. You were a hero when you were needed by your country, but sometimes you have to be a hero at home.”

Tony laughed. “Thanks for the pep talk, Pep.”

She rolled her eyes. “Bethany is better for you anyway, if you ask me.”

Tony smiled and turned to face her in his swivel chair. Pepper smiled and opened the appointment book and began to read off the list of things he had to do today.

“So after lunch with Senator Kitson…”

 

Friday night meant it was date night with Bethany; which usually consisted of a dinner out and some form of after entertainment. She was easier than Joanna had been, expected less pomp and circumstance involving nights on the town. Many times she preferred to just go home and watch a movie in pajamas.

“I think it’s adorable that you spent the night at your mother’s last night.” Bethany handed him a glass of wine.

Tony accepted the glass and set it aside as she moved in to sit against him on the patio couch. They sat over looking the city, wrapped in a blanket due to the chill in the air, on the balcony of his penthouse. He rested his chin on her shoulder and smiled, slipping his arms around her.

“She didn’t want to me to drive home that late,” he replied. “’It’s not safe at this hour, Anthony. There’s plenty of room. Stay and keep your mother company.’”

“I should have gone home.” she smirked.

“She loves you, she just doesn’t think we should be living together… you know, being unwed still.” he pecked her cheek.

Beth leaned in and ran her hand along Tony’s face, her fingers lingering on his jaw before slipping back into his hair. She tilted her head back to brush his lips with her own and let it last long enough for his eyes to fall closed.

“Tony…”

“Hmm…” he opened his eyes.

“I want to have a small wedding. I don’t want it to turn into a media circus or a spectacular show of who knows who. Just you, and me and our close family and friends.”

Beth’s voice was gentle and coxing, her finger nails lightly tracing along Tony’s scalp, soothing him. He nodded a bit at her request, knowing that she had him down to a science. He’d never want that kind of thing for himself because he’d done it once with Joanna.

“How about we elope, darling?” Tony suggested.

“Your mother would never forgive us.”

 

The Maria Stark Foundation held a brunch once a month on a Saturday afternoon for the children and their families from the foundation’s youth center. Stark House would be done up to the nines with a mess of decorations to fit the circus or carnival or fairytale land theme of the event. This Saturday it was the circus: so the place garden was lively with bright colors, clowns, jugglers, face painters, a petting zoo, and trapeze artists to entertain the children. Maria wanted to start the charity for the unfortunate children who didn’t get have the opportunities Tony had had.

Tony helped her scout a building location, handled all the real estate and upkeep while she hired capable teachers and counselors to care for the day-to-day of after school programs and tutoring for them. Within two years they’d expanded to locations in other two other boroughs. Maria held the events because she wanted to see them have a good day at least once a month. Tony never argued with that.

It was the least he could do to pull a few strings and schedule appearances by Captain America, Spider-Man and Hawkeye for the kids. Assuming time was kind to them, they happily obliged the request. Stark was an honorary Avenger, after all.

“Mr. Stark?” a small girl with a unicorn painted on her cheek tugged on his dark wash jeans.

Tony looked down. “Yeah, sweetie?”

He bent down to get eye level with the little girl. She smiled at him with her big green eyes lighting up. Her little blonde hair was tied up in pigtails with little bows that matched her pink dress. She was maybe five or six, one of the girls from the daycare center.

“If Iron Man comes back, do you think he will come to brunches?” She asked him timidly.

Tony swallowed hard and forced a smile.

“Of course.”

The girl gave him a bright smile and tugged at his hand.

“Come play!”

Tony let the girl lead him toward a group of kids bouncing on a homemade trampoline of webbing tied between two trees. With them was Spider-Man monitoring the bouncing and the tension of the web to make sure that no one got hurt and ready to catch them if they bounced too high. Also in attendance was Captain America, covered in small children climbing all over him as if he were part of the rented play ground equipment.

“Do you ever miss it, boss?” Spider-Man asked quietly.

“Every day,” Tony replied solemnly, tossing a look over his shoulder to where Bethany stood with his mother. “But I can’t go back. I can’t do that to Beth, I can’t do that to my mother.”

Spider-Man nodded, turning his attention back to the kids on the web trampoline. Tony did not tarry, as another of kids pulled him off to play.

 

As the festivities began to wind down and people started to file out, Tony found himself seated at a table with Bethany. She was planning a wedding in the garden (with the blessing of his mother of course) and scanning the grounds for the perfect place to put the altar.

Tony watched Beth flit about, agreeing where he could, but she was ahead of her the way brides tend to behave when planning. He just enjoyed watching her get excited.

“Anthony, when are you and Bethany going to start having children?”

Tony swallowed and looked over at his mother. “Mom… one step at a time. We’re not even married yet.”

Beth laughed. “But we haven’t completely ruled out a child of our own.”

Tony cleared his throat. “Well that’s our cue… we should probably go, Beth. We’ve got that…thing..”

“Tony we don’t have a— right.” Beth had a good way of sensing when Tony was getting uncomfortable, even with his mother. “The thing!”

Maria looked mildly disappointed but over the years she’d learned to accept her son’s business obligations. Tony softly kissed his mother’s cheek before giving her a simple embrace. He’d see her tomorrow so he felt no need to drag out the good-bye. Maria held onto the embrace a bit longer than he did, but he didn’t try to pull away.

“Love you, mom.” He said.

“I love you too, Anthony.”

 

Tony sat in the pew shifting uncomfortably on the wood. His mother sat beside him, her eyes on the pulpit and her fingers wrapped around her rosary. The same scene he’d remembered from his childhood only now he was a full-grown man with feet that touched the floor instead of dangling in the air. His fresh young face was a bit more defined with harder features and the smoothly sculpted van-dyke that his mother liked more than the mustache that made him look like his father.

The other difference was that Maria wore black to church, including the black mantilla shawl because she was a widow. Tony was sure his mother would never marry again but at least she’d have Jarvis with her for the rest of her years. She could even marry Jarvis. Tony laughed a bit when the thought crossed his mind, causing a sharp glare from his mother. He felt like a child again, fidgeting in the seat.

“Anthony… you’re in church.” she whispered with a scolding tone.

He sat still, nodding and not daring to speak.

At the end of the service she crossed herself quickly and gave her amen before standing. Tony followed, having to remind himself momentarily the cheat for the cross: spectacles, testicles, wallet, watch before giving his own amen. Maria smiled softly as she waited for him. He offered his arm and led her from the sanctuary.

“Where would you like to go now, Anthony?” Maria asked.

Tony smiled, remembering the question from his childhood.

“Chocolate milk?” he teased.

 

They sat at the patio table with plates of brunch Jarvis had prepared. Omelets made with goat cheese and chives, rosemary-roasted potatoes, fresh fruit salad, a few varieties of pastries including fruit tarts and muffins and to finish it off some cannoli shells waiting to be stuffed with a mixture of Mascarpone cheese and chopped pistachios. He worked on his breakfast as he answered his mother’s questions.

“Did you have a good week at the office?” Maria asked softly.

Tony swallowed his bite of omelet and chased it with a sip from his coffee.

“It was just another week. Meetings with the board, meetings with the shareholders. Of course we all know my favorite meeting was with Senator Kitson.”

Maria smiled. “Senator Kitson has been a client of the company since he was running his own corporation, since your father was in charge. I know you don’t like him, but he’s good for Stark Enterprises.”

Tony had always appreciated that his mother stayed informed on the company’s progress. After all, when Howard had died it had been her choice to give Tony control when the board and the shareholders committee had thought he was too young and too inexperienced. He owed his career to his mother, though she would never admit it.

“He has such a condescending way of speaking to me.” Tony sighed.

He sat back in the chair and wiped his mouth with the cloth napkin in his lap. It was a soft mint green to match her spring brunch-ware.

“’Anthony, you don’t mind that I call you Anthony… of course you must call me Senator when you address me because I’m clearly more important to you. Now I’m going to continue to call you Anthony in a very condescending manner, even though I know you prefer Tony… but if your mother can do it, so can I.’” Tony lowered his voice and turned up his nose to impersonate the elder man.

Maria laughed holding the napkin over her mouth until she managed to swallow the food she’d been chewing before Tony’s routine began.

“Anthony…”

“You laughed, you can’t be mad because you laughed, mom.” he grinned.

Maria seemed to think it over, before giving in but not giving Tony the satisfaction of knowing that she was letting him win. She returned her attention to her plate before changing the subject.

“I do hope that nothing prevents you from coming out to the first sailing trip of the season.” She said.

“Right… next weekend. We’re going sailing. Are we leaving from here or going to the Hamptons?” He asked, pouring himself more coffee.

“I was thinking we’d leave the Hamptons for summer.”

He nodded in response and sipped from the mug.

“That’s your last cup of that, Anthony. It’s terrible for your heart.”

 

The drawing room hadn’t changed in the years since his youth. Maria stood at the long table, rearranging the flowers from the various vases around the house. She replaced the soft pink roses that had previously been in them with some vibrant yellow ones and sprigs of Baby’s Breath to compliment them. Tony had graduated from tinker toys and Erector sets to real projects with real tools from his shop. This Sunday he was going over plans for a Stark Enterprises CD player as he was certain that the compact disc craze was going to catch on fast.

Maria watched him with a soft smile as she arranged the flowers. He’d grown up faster than she’d imagined, he was every ounce the man she’d wanted him to be. Just a few years ago she’d almost lost him over seas to a hostage situation and a heart injury. He’d returned to her a new man, with a new lust for life and helping the world and given them the brief appearance of the Iron Man.

Now with the Iron Man retired and a heart transplant, Tony was the happiest she’d ever seen him. He was proud of his work. He was happy in his relationship with Bethany Cabe and he still made time do do the charity work that she had made the family known for.

“You should take some of these roses to Bethany, I think she’d enjoy them.”

Tony looked up. “Huh… oh right. I bet she would. She loves your garden.”

He smiled at her and looked back down at his contraption in front of him.

“I’m very proud of you, Anthony.”

Tony looked up again. “Thank you mom.”

 

Pepper Potts slumped against the armchair trying to find a more comfortable position than the one she’d previously been in. She’d been sitting here for hours in the same hotel chair, her eyes fixed on Tony’s motionless body on the hotel bed. She sighed deeply, wiping at her eyes a bit.

They’d found him there; Henry Hellrung and herself, curled up on the floor beside the bed and barely breathing on his own. She knew it was likely that his brain was neglecting all the signals to the lungs. They’d gotten him into bed, gotten him cleaned up and Henry’d bought an oxygen tank from a medical supply store. The two of them waited for three days before Pepper called in a doctor they could trust.

Tony was alive but he wasn’t going to be for very long.

“Tony…”

She’d started to drift off when she heard Henry’s voice. It jolted her awake and she moved toward the bed.

“Tony… can you hear me?” Henry looked up at Pepper. “I think he’s waking up.”

Pepper scowled. “What made you think that?”

“He was moving a minute ago… people in comas don’t move like that.”

Tony moved again, this time Pepper saw it. She bent down beside him and stroked his hair gently hoping that maybe she could will him to open his eyes. She felt the emotions stinging in her sinuses, the tears flooding her eyes.

Tony’s eyes did open. They were hazy and unfocused. He looked around the room and saw Henry then he saw Pepper. There was no sign of anyone else. No sign of Bethany. No sign of his mother.

“It wasn’t real…” He sighed, voice muffled by the oxygen mask.

“What wasn’t real?” Pepper asked softly.

“The deal…”

Henry gave Pepper a look, she responded with a shrug.

“What deal?” Henry asked.

Tony closed his eyes. He didn’t want to talk about it because he didn’t have the energy to explain the subconscious of his dying brain. He swallowed back the lump in his throat as it wasn’t the right time to break down. He wasn’t going to get upset over this. It wasn’t the first time his mind had invented something, it probably wouldn’t be the last before it finally gave up for good.

“Nothing…” He opened his eyes again. “Just a hallucination.”


End file.
